Consort (Noble Reckoning #1)

Chapter 6

Durin

I keep my gaze fixed on the floor until the queen addresses me. I feel her assessing eyes on me as I wait, possibly toying with me. It’s infuriating, but I know better than to let my anger take control of me. If she doesn’t see me as useful, she might simply kill me for what I did to Mitah.

“Who are you?” she asks, finally breaking the unnerving silence.

Her voice doesn’t match her flawless appearance. It’s rough and harsh, scraping across my skin like bark as she speaks.

“No one, my queen,” I say, braving a look up at her.

“Hmm…” she says. “Charming answer. What is your name, then?”

“Durin,” I say plainly.

She trails her eyes over my face and body as if they can penetrate right through me. Like she has access to every one of my memories and emotions. I don’t believe she has that ability, but I’m uneasy nonetheless. No one really knows everything she’s capable of. I doubt she’d ever be foolish enough to give away that information.

Her eyes come to rest upon my crippled hands again as I cradle them against my chest. Instead of smirking this time, she flicks her wrist at the fae with the pitiful glamour, and he quickly leaves the room. He returns with a small, silver-haired fae and pushes her toward me. She won’t meet my gaze, but her eyes are intense as she zeroes in on my injured hands.

A healer.

She examines both hands, flipping them over and pulling on each finger. I suppress the urge to heave, though the pain is severe. Mercifully, she soon closes her eyes and lets her healing power flow over me. The warmth of her magic is strikingly different than my own angry, destructive heat. Hers is soothing and restorative, gently bringing my hands back to their original state in seconds.

I begin to thank her, but I think better of it. I turn to the queen instead. “Thank you, my queen, for your graciousness.”

She smiles broadly and looks me over once more. “Oh, you’re simply perfect, aren’t you? Come closer.”

I have no choice but to let the soldier shove me forward until I’m a mere five paces away. The queen’s magic has been circling the room like a guard, watchful and protective. But, as I stand before her, the weight of her power descends upon me like a storm breaking. My hands are healed, but I doubt I could raise one against her, even if I were foolish enough to try.

The mixed fae shifters growl and hiss at me as I come too near the queen for their liking. It still baffles me how she’s managed to train them to protect her. Their chains keep them at a safe distance, but their presence still puts me on edge. I try to ignore them and focus on the queen instead. She’s the real threat in the room.

When I look back at her, she’s flashing another strikingly beautiful smile at me. Her glamour is flawless, if it’s even a glamour. Maybe she just doesn’t age. But there’s a certain sensation that comes with a glamour. It’s impossible to pinpoint exactly what it is, but I think I catch the subtle energy buried within her power and false charm.

Either that, or I’m catching another kind of energy I probably don’t want to know about.

Despite her objective beauty, I’m repelled by her. Her voice is grating, and I know what darkness lives in her heart. I hide my distaste, though, and wait anxiously until she finally speaks.

“I hear you murdered one of my nobles,” she says, the smile slipping from her face. “Now, why would a common fae do that?” She leans forward and squints at me before adding, “And how would a common fae do that?”

I hesitate, not wanting to reveal the truth, but I’m not sure how to get around lying. I decide to address her second question first.

“I have heat magic,” I say. “I boiled the blood inside him until he died.”

I try to sound nonchalant, but, really, I’m worried I’ve said the wrong thing.

She purses her lips and raises a brow at me. “Heat magic, you say? I’ve never known of heat magic powerful enough to kill before. It seems you have a parent who has been hiding something from me.”

“No!” I answer too quickly. I fear for my parents, who did nothing wrong. “No, my queen,” I say again, trying to appear calmer. “My heat magic comes from my father. It was mild, like his own. But Mitah wronged me four years ago. I spent the years since growing and refining my magic so I could repay him for it.”

The queen surprises me by throwing her head back and laughing, the sound like gargling gravel. “So, you killed my most powerful noble because he slighted you?” She shakes her head in disbelief, then meets my gaze again. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-one, my queen,” I say.

She chuckles. “Ah, young pride. You spent the last of your formative years seeking revenge.” Her expression suddenly becomes serious. “That kind of dedication is rare among my soldiers.”

I’m relieved I didn’t have to give details of Mitah’s offense. She might not think me so admirable if she knew I was avenging a shifter. I don’t offer up the information, but she keenly picks up on something I hadn’t considered.

“You said you grew your magic,” she says, narrowing her eyes as her power swirls around me. I feel it wrap around my throat and press against my chest, reminding me that each breath I take is a gift she’s granted me. “Tell me more about that.”

She seems to have forgotten about my father, but she has latched on to the idea of my magic’s transformation. Magic comes in at its full power. A fae will find more ways to use it as they mature, but it doesn’t grow stronger. Mine has. Mentioning that was a mistake. Why wouldn’t a greedy ruler want to know how I was able to become more powerful?

“I pushed myself,” I tell her, which is no lie. “I trained my magic every day, adding potions and whatever else I could find to make me stronger.”

“Well done,” she replies. “But… that’s not enough to turn heat magic into battle magic. There’s more.”

I clamp my jaw shut, afraid the elf’s involvement will slip out. Fae have a tendency to speak the truth without realizing it. The elf gave me his name, a sign of trust, and I will not betray it. But the queen’s keen perception actually protects the elf from my loose fae lips because she notices something I never did.

“What magic does your mother wield?” she asks slowly.

My mother… All this time, I thought I had done the impossible, enhancing my magic in a way no fae has ever managed before. But now I see that I was simply tapping into an ability given to me at birth.

“My mother has the gift of flourishing magic,” I tell her, dizzy from the revelation. “She has the ability to make plants and herbs grow and thrive. It seems… I may have inherited some of her magic as well.”

The queen hums as if the information is only mildly interesting, but her eyes are sharp, seeing nothing in the room they’re in. Her mind is somewhere else completely, and it unnerves the fuck out of me.

“Of all the flourishing fae who have existed, none have produced a spawn with blended magic such as yours,” she says, her icy gaze piercing straight through me. “You’re unique, Durin. Destined for power. Your place has always been in my court.”

She’s just declared me nobility and thereby claimed my power for herself. She’s letting me live so she can use me. The smile she wears is wicked and hungry. Her joy sickens me, but this is the best outcome I could ask for. I only hope I can do some good before she realizes she shouldn’t have let me anywhere near my intended place .

“Handler, bring me a hybrid,” she barks, shaking my resolve as she continues to stare greedily at me.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” he says, working quickly to unchain one of the horrifying creatures from the rest of the group.

The mixed fae remains somewhat calm for the handler, but as it draws closer, it lunges at me and lets out a chilling scream. Saliva drips down its fangs as it snaps and claws at the air, trying desperately to reach me. I’m grateful it’s restrained, but I dread where I think the queen is heading with this.

“Show me your magic,” she commands, confirming my fears. “Kill it.”

I freeze. I don’t want to take its life. Despite its aggression toward me, it’s innocent as far as I know. I have to remind myself that it likely isn’t. It could have killed countless fae of all species on its path to becoming the queen’s guardian pet. Once a mixed fae shifter is lost to the bloodlust, they never return. Killing it would be avenging the fallen and protecting more in the future.

Still, killing someone just to prove my strength feels vile. I can’t say I’m upset when I feel the empath’s magic manipulate my emotions again. Killing it no longer seems cruel but merciful. I’m not a killer, I’m a guardian. Ending this creature’s life is the right thing to do. I’ll be its savior.

My conscience is still there, lingering in the edge of my mind. But I’ll allow the fae to drive me to do what needs to be done.

A familiar touch on my shoulder reminds me that Farris is with me. He’s still out of sight, but his hands are the same. His support and the false approval the empath has given me are the only reasons I can go through with this.

I close my eyes and let the heat build in my hands. The hotter they get, the brighter they glow, tinting the mixed fae’s sharp fangs a bright blue. I’d rather snap its neck and put it out of its misery, but the queen wants to see my magic. I grab its wrists instead and unleash a wave of power that will leave no doubt in the queen’s mind of my abilities.

The fae’s skin sizzles as it burns away from my touch, causing it to shriek in pain. It stiffens and jerks as the heat shoots up its arms.

I hate hurting it, and I can’t bear to watch my own magic make it suffer much longer. Efficiency is powerful and hopefully respectable to the queen. I’ll need to end the fae’s suffering soon if I want to hold onto my own soul.

With a final surge of power, I send a wave of scorching heat straight to its heart. It pierces through the muscle, stopping its beating and instantly ending the fae’s life.

It collapses at my feet, its chains clattering onto the floor like spilled water. I step back, distancing myself from what I’ve done. But I can’t help but look at the fae’s face. It appears relaxed now, a beauty shining through that wasn’t there in its raving state. I hate what I had to do, but seeing it at peace, free from its bloodlust, is a small mercy for me.

I turn back to the queen, swallowing my guilt to appear confident. She’s pleased, grinning and clasping her hands to her chest. Now comes the part where she sends me off to do her bidding. I’m ready for that. I just need to find a place to release all the pent-up feelings I’ve had to hold inside.

“Well done. You’ll make a fine noble,” she says. “But… I have an additional role in mind for you.”

I have no idea what she could mean, so I just stare at her dumbly. Royal matters are so far outside of my normal affairs. She could be referring to anything. But I can’t imagine anything worse than becoming a heartless weapon for her royal court. Whatever it is, I wish she’d get on with it. I need to get away from here.

“You’re stunning without glamour,” she says, letting her eyes wander over my face. “You’re powerful by birth and by will. I’ve always taken fae with beauty but never with beauty and power.”

“Your Majesty,” the green-haired fae says as he steps toward us. “I caution you to rethink. It could be a risk to have a powerful—”

“Silence, Folas!” the queen yells. Her anger swells and sends a wave of her magic through the room, causing everyone to stumble. “You think I can’t handle one of my own nobles?”

“Apologies, my queen,” he says, backing away to stand against the wall he came from.

I wish she’d let him finish his warning. If I could be a risk to her, I need to know why, and I’m all in for this special role.

That is until she says the words I never would have expected in my darkest nightmares.

“Durin, you won’t simply be nobility. You shall be royalty . You will serve me not only as a soldier of my kingdom but also in my bed as consort. Folas,” she says, turning to the fae, “have him fed, bathed, and brought to my chambers.”

I’d hoped for a way to gain the queen’s trust, but this is not at all what I’d had in mind.